


Fishing

by galaxystiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, First Meetings, Fisherman!Dean, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Slash, merman!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 15:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sam leaves for Stanford, Dean is at a loss for what to do with himself. He spends six months building a boat, and then takes it out to sea to go fishing. He gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fishing

The small rowboat slowly moved away from the shore, the sun beating down on both the wooden vessel and its owner. Dean felt the sweltering heat, despite the fact that the sun wasn’t yet at its highest point. It was obvious the day was set to be scorching, but Dean preferred it like that. It meant that the tourists would want to stay closer to the beach, to sunbathe and access ice creams and sodas. Further out to sea would be quiet, solitary.

Exactly how he liked it.

He could see the other fisherman sneering at him again. Rolling his eyes, Dean just carried on rowing out to sea. It was his boat, he knew that. They looked down at him for having a tiny rowboat instead of a motorboat or a fishing trawler. But why would he waste money on frivolous things like that, when he had arms? So it exerted energy to row, it kept him fit and strong. He wasn’t going to spend a goddamn fortune on a boat with an engine just for a hobby.

A nasty voice in the back of Dean’s head reminded him that a hobby was something done in his spare time, organised around other things, and that Dean had nothing and nobody else to occupy his time. Fishing wasn’t a hobby, it was his life.

Sam had gone now, and Dean had spent the last twenty years worrying about everything his brother wanted. Now Sammy was off to Stanford and Dean had nothing to focus on but himself. So he’d gone to the coast, leased an apartment for six months and spent all of that time building his boat. He had no idea what he wanted to do in the future, so he was hesitant to put down roots anywhere until he knew what he wanted. It wasn’t much of a life. But it was his.

He silenced the voice and focused on smoothly rowing out, going far enough that land was just on the horizon. It was quieter here. It was strange that the silence helped mute his inner thoughts, his self-directed hate quashed by the serenity of the water, but being alone helped. If Dean was honest with himself, he knew this was his escape from life. That this was all he had.

Allowing himself just a short time to appreciate the serene silence and recover from his strenuous rowing, Dean set to work. He didn’t need to catch a lot. Most of the other fishermen only had this as their livelihood. Dean caught the fish and then either cast them back or took them home for dinner. It was just the process he found interesting.

When his line was cast out, Dean relaxed, reaching back into his cooler to grab a cold beer, uncapping it swiftly and taking a drink. It was only getting hotter now, he could practically feel his skin burning from the rays. Still, he did nothing about it, just drank his beer and focused on nothing at all.

The tug of the line drew his attention swiftly to the rod and he immediately began reeling in his catch. It was a big one, and he grinned with satisfaction as he removed the hook from the seabass, killing it with a quick blow to the head.

A loud, high pitched screech immediately set his nerves on edge, and Dean straightened up, looking around for what could have made that noise. It was almost eerie, definitely not human, and sent shivers down his spine.

“The fuck?”

He leaned over the side of the boat at the water, looking for any sign of a creature that could have made that noise. Some kind of whale maybe? They communicated by sonar, right? There were no dark shapes in the water, so Dean hesitantly turned back to his catch.

“Ahhh!” He gasped, coming face to face with some kind of … _creature_ that was hanging off the side of his boat. There was no fear of mistaking that for human, despite the similarities in form. It was too pale, with dark claws that were grasping onto the edge of his boat, no doubt holding him up from the water. There were slits in its neck, just behind its ears, which Dean suddenly realised were _gills_. On top of that it had the sharpest teeth that Dean had ever seen, teeth he couldn’t tear his eyes away from, because they were currently bared aggressively in his direction.

It only took Dean a split second to react and then his oar was swinging through the air at the creature’s head. It ducked easily, resurfacing on the other side of the boat, before hissing dangerously at Dean. They both knew he was next to defenceless, the small knife he had for gutting his catch would be useless against the creature, which was obviously so much quicker than he was.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Dean said slowly, no idea if the _thing_ even spoke his language. Or any language known to the human tongue. Raising his free hand in a gesture of surrender, he slowly lowered the oar back into place.

“You should have thought of that before you killed my friend!” The creature snarled, baring his teeth and grasping onto the side of the boat again. “Murderer!”

Dean frowned for a split second, before lowering his gaze to the fish. _Fuck_. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I didn’t realise… I mean, fishing is a common thing around here. Look, I’m… uh, I’m Dean. I didn’t mean to hurt your friend.”

It was doubtful that psychology worked on deep sea monsters, but Dean had read somewhere that giving something a name humanizes it, which made it harder to kill. Maybe now this thing knew his name, it would be less likely to kill him.

“Dean,” the thing tried the new word out on his tongue, before glaring at him. “You murdered Inias.”

Dean turned to look at the dead fish in front of him and then quickly turned back to the creature. He wasn’t taking his eyes off those teeth for longer than he had to. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was your friend. It’s… Inias is a nice name.” He offered, awkwardly. What the hell was he saying? Discussing fish names with a he-beast of the deep blue sea. What the fuck was this thing anyway?

“It is,” the scowl became less pronounced, the thing clearly blindsided by Dean’s quick apology and attempt to make amends. “He was a good friend. Intelligent. We were discussing the pattern of the shark movement in the area.”

He had to be kidding, right? Dean was pretty sure that he was being mocked now. As if this … whatever it was could actually communicate with fish. As if fish had enough brains to discuss the something like sharks pattern of movement. This was bullshit. But hell, with those teeth pointed at him, he’d even agree that the President of the United States was part-fish.

“How about that?” He said weakly. “Listen, I really am sorry. I won’t do anything like this again.”

“You won’t hurt any more of my friends?” Castiel clarified, his eyes narrowing, but his mouth untwisted.

Shaking his head swiftly, Dean brought his legs a little closer to his chest, not letting himself relax even though the monster seemed less threatening now. “Nope. No fear of that. I’ll, uh… find another hobby. No more hurting your friends,” he paused, and then decided if he was going to die, it would be with satisfied curiosity. “What are you, anyway? I’ve never seen anything like you in my life.”

“My name is Castiel,” the creature replied, before musing on the question. “Land-dwellers, they have many names for my kind, in various tongues. I think… the one you would recognize is mermaid.”

Dean stared. He couldn’t help it. Even face to face with something that was decidedly not human, he couldn’t bring himself to believe the words coming out of Castiel’s mouth.

“Get the hell out of here. There’s no such thing.”

Castiel just stared right back at him, and then disappeared abruptly, letting go of the boat and sinking into the water.

Dean was torn. Should he move, or was it a trap to attack him? Maybe the creature couldn’t get to him if he stayed on the boat. Before he could make a decision, Castiel reappeared, hurtling out of the water and diving over the boat. Dean caught a flash of blue fins and his jaw dropped.

“I’ll be damned,” he breathed, before his awe turned to suspicion. “Mermaid it is. You’re not supposed to be real, you know.”

“I assure you, I’m quite real,” Castiel looked almost offended at the comment, and grasped the boat a little tighter. “It’s not often land dwellers come this far out. Not in a boat this size. It’s small and breakable.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to look offended. He’d built this boat himself with his own two hands, it wasn’t breakable at all. He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “Right. Yeah, well I like to be away from the other ‘land-dwellers’ every now and again. They don’t like my damn boat either. I built it, okay? She’s my baby. The Impala,” he puffed out his chest proudly.

“It’s a very nice boat,” Castiel was looking at it with interest now. “You built it yourself? Remarkable. The boats I’ve seen before are made of metal, made by machines I hear. I’ve never been to land, but merfolk talk.”

“So there are more of you? Do you have like… family? Friends? Girlfriend?” Dean asked, leaning forward now he was starting to feel sure he was safe again. Castiel seemed just as curious about him as he was about the merman.

Castiel nodded slowly. “There are more of us. I swim alone though. Big family… too…” he frowned, trying to think of the word, but just finished with a shrug when it didn’t come. Dean understood though, all too well. Even small families were _too_ -whatever sometimes. Which was why Sam was off on the other side of the States, far away from Dean. “Girlfriend… like a mate?” Castiel questioned, before shaking his head, looking sad.

“No mate?” Dean asked, sympathetically, reaching for his previously discarded beer. “Aren’t you lonely?”

Shrugging, Castiel fixed his eyes on the beer. “I almost had a mate once. He… merfolk must procreate. Our clan was dying out, and two males… he was betrothed to another. My family didn’t understand, so I left. I have friends here. Fish and dolphin and whales.” He shrugged again.

Dean softened and reached out to the cooler, uncapping another beer and offering it to Castiel. “That’s rough, Cas. You should be with who you want to be with. And if he cared so much about you, he would have been with you over his _betrothed_. That’s what love is, right?”

Castiel took the bottle with interest, sniffing it and licking the rim, before drinking from it. “This is pleasant.” He decided with a smile. “And I think you’re right. Thank you, Dean.”

“You’re welcome.”

They collapsed into silence, staring at each other between gulps of the icy cold beer. Neither of them spoke, not knowing what to say and having too much to say all at once. They came from different worlds, their meeting was so unlikely it was almost too hard to believe. Both Castiel and Dean were bursting with a curiosity that they didn’t know how to satisfy.

“And you? Do you have a mate?” Castiel said eventually, looking at Dean curiously. “You have no ring.”

So he knew a little of their culture. Dean shrugged, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Never really looked for one. I’m not sure how someone would fit into my life… I like it out there, I like to spend time on the water where there’s nobody else around. If I had to think of someone else back home, I’m not sure how much time I’d have for me.” He hesitated and then plunged on. “I’ve been looking after my kid brother for so long, and now he’s gone to do his own thing and I have no idea what I want to do. For the first time, I get to do something for _me_ , something I want, and I don’t know what to do.”

He was breathing heavily once he’d gotten the words out, as if he’d physically exerted himself. Still, it felt like his chest had become a little bit lighter now he’d confessed everything he was feeling to Castiel. It was nice to have someone to talk to, after spending so long on his own.

“Why do anything?” Castiel murmured. “You’re obviously here because you want to be, or you’d be somewhere else, doing something else. Like you said, you don’t want a mate because you like it here. So stay here.”

It sounded so simple when it was put like that, and it was like suddenly everything became obvious. He wanted to be here. The other fishermen could think what they liked, this was the closest thing to home since Kansas, and Dean wasn’t going to let that slip away again. He’d go home and extend the lease on his apartment to be long term, no doubt Missouri would be overjoyed he was staying longer.

“Thanks, Cas.” He said softly, sincerely. “I’m gonna stay. But right now… I should probably head back. I have a few things to take care of if I’m going to stay here long term.”

Castiel looked disappointed, but nodded. “You… won’t tell anyone of my existence?” He asked quietly, suddenly looking vulnerable as he slid the empty beer bottle back into the boat. “I’ve been hunted before. Land-dwellers… they are untrustworthy. But you… you are different. You talk and listen and you love the water.”

Dean shook his head, reaching out to touch Castiel’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I won’t tell anyone, Cas. Friends don’t do that to each other.” He gave the merman a hesitant smile and inclined his head. “Maybe I’ll see you around? I’ll be back here tomorrow if you want to stop by.”

Castiel gave him a wide smile that was all teeth, pushing himself back from the boat but treading water, his tail flicking out beneath him. “I’ll come find you tomorrow. No more fishing,” he reminded Dean with a slight hiss.

Laughing, Dean nodded, raising his hand in a gesture of promise. “Fish are friends, not food!” He quoted with a grin, which only widened when the reference flew straight over Castiel’s head.

“Exactly,” Castiel nodded in satisfaction. “Farewell, land dweller.”

With a flick of his tail, Castiel splashed some water at Dean, before diving out of sight. Dean stared at the broken surface for a few moments, before finding his oars and shaking his head. Part of him was tempted to believe that he just had a severe case of sun stroke and had just hallucinated the whole thing, but another part of him felt light and easy from their conversation and was convinced Castiel was real.

He’d just have to come back tomorrow to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> [MY TUMBLR](http://blueeyedangel.co.vu)


End file.
